Timeless
by Jubileyn
Summary: It was best to wish when one was unaccompanied. No one would ask you what you were doing nor would they laugh at you once they knew what you were doing. Yes, wishing was best done alone.


Disclaimer: All the imagery belongs to me. The characters are Jo's. But which ones, you ask? You're free to guess and imagine, as your mind belongs to you, but I'm free to keep my silence. I'll never tell.

A/N: A one-shot that I actually had a daydream about. It was too beautiful to pass up. Sorry about Prefects. I'll update soon, I promise. Enjoy this in the meantime, duckies.

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--Alone, she sat on the damp grass. Where the grey sky touched the mountains in the distance, dark clouds were gathering and fog was heavy in the chilly air. The girl rubbed her hands together to keep them warm. The breeze flew by, trying to beckon her hair along with it, leaving it to ripple past the careworn face. She was wishing and had found, from previous study, that it was best to wish when one was unaccompanied. No one would ask you what you were doing nor would they laugh at you once they knew what you were doing. Yes, wishing was best done alone.

The wish itself was so simple, but complicated. Unattainable, yet just within the reach of her fingertips. So, when thought about logically, one could deduce that the wish was for a companion. Not just anyone would do, she knew. And she already had her eye resting on a particular one. The boy in question, was kind occasionally, intelligent often, and loyal always.

The difficulty was she was certain that he had never thought of her in quite the way she was wishing for him now. And, he doubtless never would. She wanted him beside her now, even just to stop the tears, which he would do regardless of the way he felt about her. One look was enough.

She was holding on to her dream like anything. The wish was so desperate, so pure, that she wouldn't ever let go. The girl couldn't, lest she would break into a million pieces. She would disintegrate and never be reassembled. And the thought of that made her tighten her already firm grip.

What a person he was. Not the bravest or strongest or nicest, but everything together, and all his bad traits were made up for by the good ones. He was everywhere. In the wind, in the sunshine, in the spring, in the fire, in the earth, in her mind, and in her heart. He was close always and never near.

The girl was ill, her face drawn and pale. Her cheeks were grey and puffy from the trail marks the tears had carelessly left behind them. The sickness was affecting her judgment and sense of reason. It left her empty and hollow. Where once had been a frivolous and quietly happy child, a shadow was all that remained. An imprint of years spent pining. A ghost of what should have been a wonderful life. She was afflicted with love. And tears were a constant, unlike the boy she so longed for, who was, consequently, standing behind the crying girl.

He said nothing, only walked past her, stopping just beyond her crumpled and diminished form. Callousness was not what caused him to behave in this manner. The girl heard the footsteps and dared to take a peek between her interlaced fingers that were currently hiding her eyes from the unkind world. She let out a small 'oh!' of surprise and embarrassment, standing quickly, hands wiping the tear-stains from her eyes.

She wanted to say something, anything, but her voice box did not want to work properly. Thankfully, he stepped in. "What are you doing out here?" It seemed to her he was trying to make his tone sound indifferent, but he was failing abysmally. She hiccoughed.

"Just wishing," she said. He would never laugh at her, at least not right now. He would later, when they were angry and upset with each other, which she felt was her fault, considering that most of the uncomfortable tension between them was caused by her impractical wants.

"Ah," he murmured. His voice was gentle and soft, like the draft floating past her ear. She knew that word well. It was what he said when he knew what was wrong and wanted her to confide in him. She doubted she could. Not this time.

What a waste this was. Death hung around them, like the fog surrounding them now, and her tongue still froze whenever she attempted to articulate what she was bursting to say. The girl sometimes feared she would never be able to tell the secret she guarded so carefully, and that she would die with it, unloved.

"Look, let's stop being so distant." His sudden outburst caused her to jump. He still wasn't facing her. "There's something bothering you and I want you to tell me what it is. Can you do that?" She had expected the last sentence to be spoken harshly, but his voice was all worry and not at all sarcastic. It was enough to make her lightheaded.

She opened her mouth again and again, no sound came out. She frantically tried again and again after that, but every time not a word left her mouth.

He sighed, feeling rejected by someone who was supposed to be his friend. "Alright, I can see you don't want to-"

"I'm in love with you." The words came when she needed them, but the horror of what she had done, the atrocity she had committed, sunk in and her eyes widened in shock. She now wished he had gone deaf and hadn't heard a word of what she had so foolishly uttered. Her hands flew to her mouth and covered them to ensure that no more of her desires would flop off of her temporarily loose tongue. She turned away from him, so as not to be able to see him leave her, which would undoubtedly cause her a great deal of pain.

But, had she been watching him, she would have noticed that he wasn't leaving. Or moving at all, for that matter. He was frozen as comprehension dawned on his features. All of the mysteries of their awkward relationship had been solved by those five words she had graciously given him. She heard him stuttering. And then, that terrible voice said, "Put your hands down."

The girl shook her head furiously and clamped her hands down ever tighter. Her eyes swam and she felt sick in the horrible moments that followed.

"Put your hands down," he repeated quietly. He was determined to have his way, but so was she. Her hands closed around her lips so tightly, her skin was turning whiter than it already was.

She didn't see him turn around, but she could guess from the sudden movement behind her that that was what he had done. The brutal tears had returned unbidden, and were streaming down her watery cheeks. Her mind racked for a solution, for a lie to explain why she had said anything at all. Several sobs escaped, despite her attempts to muffle them. But seconds later she couldn't move. She was frozen as he had been. It was like having '_Petrificus Totalus'_ set on you, save you couldn't think either. He had spoken again.

"Put your hands down so I can kiss you."

Her hands, it seemed, took ages to fall away from her face. Centuries passed as she attempted to turn herself around towards him. Life was in slow motion, every second was a decade and she stared at the boy in shock. She had imagined having an outburst like this before, but she had never imagined being rendered speechless. Or that it could have been as glorious and dreadful as it was at the moment.

Her round, dark eyes pored into him and he was looking back at her most fiercely. No one moved, or spoke, or even dared to breathe too loudly. Everything was still. Then suddenly, it wasn't. He was coming towards her and she couldn't breathe from the crying fit that returned, her body quaking from the sobs. Her face was in his hands and soon her mouth was on another part of him before her logical side could stop her.

She was a mess, wet from the tears and the kisses, her face white, but not quite so drawn, and her hair ruffled from the wind and his hands, which had decided to reside there currently. The clouds were overhead now. She was, before long, wet from another reason.

Rain fell from the heavens.--


End file.
